Preston's Honor Read online

  He smiled. “Three’s a crowd.”

  Was it? I’d never thought so.

  “So what do you say?”

  Maybe in my focus on Preston, I hadn’t allowed room for the feelings that might develop for Cole. Maybe . . . maybe I could love him the same way someday, if I opened my heart to the idea. Cole was fun and easy to be with, and we had some things in common that Preston and I didn’t. I only paused for a second before smiling back. “All right.”

  Cole’s grin was big and bright. “Great.”

  **********

  I went to the movies with Cole that Sunday night and again three Sundays later and we kissed in the dark. I liked kissing him, liked the way he tasted and the way he made small moaning noises in the back of his throat. But I especially liked being held in his arms, loved the warm feeling of being embraced, of feeling cherished and protected for the first time in my life—even if only for a short time. He seemed to want to kiss continually, but I just wished he’d hold me.

  I also loved the movies, loved the buttered popcorn Cole bought me and the way the story on the screen filled the whole room and took up my whole mind. The sounds bounced off the walls and made me feel like I was in another world. I tried not to appear too affected—I didn’t think it was very normal that a fifteen-year-old girl had never been to the movies, and I didn’t want Cole to know.

  Afterward, I told him I was meeting my mama where she worked so we could go home together and had him drop me in front of the motel. He kissed me goodbye and I went up the outside stairs, ducking around the corner. When his truck had driven away, I went back down and walked home by myself, down the dirt roads and through the grassy fields, going over the scenes from the film we’d just watched and thinking about the way I’d felt part of the crowd, sitting in the theater holding Cole’s hand.

  The school year was almost at an end and both Preston and Cole would be heading to college in the fall, and I knew my time with him would be coming to an end, too. It confused me that I wasn’t more upset by that knowledge, but I just wasn’t.

  The boy I still longed for was Preston, and it weighed on my heart that kissing Cole had only intensified that yearning. I’d hoped it would lessen it. Even with my eyes closed in a darkened theater, I couldn’t pretend Cole was really his brother. And I couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt that Preston had seemed to completely withdraw, even in friendship.

  One rainy Thursday at lunch, I was rushing to class, taking an alternate route so I wouldn’t get soaked, when I rounded a corner and almost collided with a group of people standing under an overhang.

  Halting abruptly, I saw that it was Preston and Cole and three or four of their popular friends. Cole had been talking animatedly to the group who was laughing at whatever he’d been saying and his words halted at my sudden appearance.

  My eyes darted around, landing on Preston. I tried not to let it show on my face how much I’d missed seeing him, though I’d seen his brother. Preston’s eyes widened slightly and his lips parted as if in surprise. I tried to stay away from them at school. I didn’t want to cause them any embarrassment, and I didn’t want them to be put in the uncomfortable position of including me with their friends when they might not want to. I forced myself to look away from Preston.

  “Hey there,” Cole said warmly. “Join us. Everyone, this is Annalia.” I hesitated, though. I felt unsure and rigid with nerves. I managed a weak smile, hoping I didn’t smell like cleaning supplies. I’d gone to work with my mama that morning and cleaned six disgusting motel rooms before school. If I did still carry the scent of toilet bowl cleaner, hopefully it was subtle enough that no one would notice.

  Gathering my courage, I nodded at the people standing around Preston and Cole looking at me curiously.

  The group had fallen silent and tension pricked at my skin, a sense of not belonging falling over me like a soggy sheet. I almost turned in the other direction and walked away, but forced myself not to.

  “Lia,” Preston said, his voice slightly scratchy. He cleared his throat, holding out his hand to me, and it snapped me from my frozen state. It was only then that I noticed I was the only one not covered by the overhang, the only one getting wet under the drizzling rain.

  I let out a quick exhale and took Preston’s hand gratefully, not too nervous to notice the zap of electricity that always went through me at his touch, his nearness. It was both calming and off-putting.

  I stepped under the overhang and Preston’s hand dropped from mine, leaving me feeling cold and alone again.

  Alicia Bardua had been standing next to Preston and she stepped back, her eyes moving from my head to my feet. From her expression, it was clear she was not impressed. I remembered that long-ago hair fiasco and my fervent desire to look like Alicia—to be her—and felt especially ashamed and embarrassed by her obvious disdain. It was as if she could see inside me and knew the secret longings of my heart. Instinctively, I knew she would use them to hurt me. I felt my cheeks heating and looked away.

  “Aren’t you a freshman?” Alicia asked.

  I looked back to where she stood and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I’m a freshman.”

  She shot me an insincere smile. “We were just talking about the prom. I don’t suppose you’re going since you’re not a senior?”

  I glanced at Preston whose face seemed paler than it’d been. “Oh. No. I’m not going.”

  She smiled, a cunning tilt of her lips. She latched on to Preston’s arm and said, “Well then you probably won’t be interested in this conversation. You should run along to class.” My heart squeezed painfully and I felt slightly sick. Preston was taking Alicia to the prom.

  “Jesus, Alicia. Don’t be fucking rude,” Preston gritted out almost at the same time Cole said, “Shut up, Alicia.”

  “What?” she asked silkily, shooting daggers at both of them. “I was just trying to save her from the boredom of having to listen to plans she has nothing to do with.”

  My whole face felt hot, that sense of not belonging intensifying. I swallowed. God, I’d known talking to Preston and Cole in public was a bad idea. I’d known.

  “Annalia—” Cole started to say when Alicia jumped backward, letting out a small shriek.

  “Oh my God! Are those bugs on her?”

  I sucked in a breath, reactively jumping backward from everyone, too. I glanced down at my white sweater and spotted three bedbugs, large and filled with blood. Oh God, oh God, oh God. No. No, no, no. Panicked, I stripped my sweater off and threw it to the ground, brushing at the light blue tank top I was wearing underneath.

  “Oh that’s so disgusting!” Alicia was yelling as she wiped at her own clothing. “Is anything on me? Did she get anything on me?”

  Tears of anguish and humiliation sprang to my eyes. “I’m so sorry,” I croaked. Oh God, they must have gotten on me when I was cleaning this morning.

  I was always so careful about bringing bedbugs into our home, always stripped my clothes off in the back of the house when I came home from cleaning and my mama generally did the same if her back wasn’t hurting her so much she couldn’t manage it. But I must not have checked myself thoroughly enough before school that morning. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated.

  Everyone had moved back, everyone except Preston who came toward me and took my hand. “Come on, I’m taking you to the nurse.”

  I pulled free, a shuddery breath escaping. “No. No. You stay here. Please. I don’t want—” I ripped my gaze from his face. He looked tortured, as if this situation was actually hurting him. It increased my shame, causing bile to move up my throat. He’d already withdrawn. Now he’d never want anything to do with me ever again. Oh God, I was going to vomit.

  “Wait, Lia,” I heard Cole say as I turned and ran toward Mrs. Stephens’s office. Though I wanted to leave school completely, I had finals that day, and I knew I couldn’t. Despite the fact that I often came to school exhausted from working mornings at the motel, if I was going to graduate in three years, I had to continu
e to get decent grades, and pass my freshman year-end exams.

  When I turned into the small nurse’s office, tears were tracking down my cheeks.

  “Annalia, what’s the matter, dear?” Mrs. Stephens was an older woman with short, gray hair and a kind manner. I’d only been to her once before for a small injury when I’d needed a Band-Aid, but I’d liked her immediately.

  I stopped in the doorway, staring at her in misery. “I think . . . I think I may have bedbugs on me.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Bedbugs?”

  I nodded. “I work with my mama in the mornings at a motel, changing bedding and there were three of them on my sweater—”

  “Okay, dear, take a seat and I’ll check you over. My goodness, it’s okay.”

  It wasn’t okay. I’d humiliated not only myself but Preston and Cole. I’d live in shame forever.

  I heard a small sound behind me and turned to see Preston standing in the doorway breathing hard. “Are you all right?”

  I looked away. “I’m fine. You can go.”

  At this point I was beginning to feel numb. I just wanted to be checked over, go take my final, and go home so I could cry. But Preston came in and sat down on the chair on the opposite wall, leaning forward on his knees and clasping his hands together.

  “Stand up, dear, and I’ll check the outside of your clothing. The most important thing, though, is to check your mattress when you get home.”

  “I don’t have a mattress,” I said dully. I didn’t look at Preston but I caught him twitch slightly out of my peripheral vision. I couldn’t bother to care that he now knew that embarrassing fact. Could it get any worse? “At least, not one that’s made of material. It’s plastic.”

  Mrs. Stephens paused in her perusal of the back of my tank top. “Oh. Well then, you’re probably okay. But it’s still a good idea to wash all your bedding and clothes in hot water and then dry them twice.”

  I didn’t bother to tell her that we didn’t have a washer or a dryer, that we used the Laundromat in town, but could only get there every other week or so—and sometimes less often if my mama’s back was really bad.

  There was a commotion by the door and then Cole was standing there. “Hey,” he said, “are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, looking back to him and then to Preston. “Please, go.” Someone might see you here with me.

  Preston and Cole both opened their mouths simultaneously but Mrs. Stephens cut in, “I’m going to insist that you go actually, because I need Annalia to remove her clothing so we can get her completely checked out. Now go on back to class, boys.”

  They both stared at me for a moment, but I looked away and finally, Preston stood up, rubbing his hands down his hips. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

  “Please don’t,” I said without looking at him. He stood there for a few beats longer, and I felt his stare on me, but then he turned and left the room.

  “Do you want me—?” Cole asked.

  “No.”

  I didn’t hear him leave and knew he was lingering, so I looked up to meet his gaze. He looked so troubled and I just wanted him to go. “It’s okay, Cole. Soon this will all be a distant memory. I’m not going to be here forever.” I mustered a half-hearted smile.

  His grin was immediate, his head tilted in interest. “Yeah? Where are you gonna be?”

  “On the North Shore of Hawaii giving surf lessons to tourists. I just need to learn to surf first.”

  He laughed softly. “Sounds perfect.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “It does.” I looked back down and a second later I heard his footsteps echoing down the empty hall.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lia – Fifteen Years Old

  I didn’t go back to school for the rest of that year. I took my finals and never returned. What was the point? I’d done what I needed to do to pass my freshman year. I couldn’t bear sitting in classes and feeling the humiliation of the kids who were surely laughing behind my back and calling me ugly names, or even worse, feeling disgust and pity. I’d go back next year once Alicia Bardua had gone to college. And I prayed no one would remember that awful, awful day.

  I had elaborate fantasies about slipping amnesia-inducing drugs into the town water supply, but couldn’t work out a real-life plan in which I could actually make that happen.

  As much as I hated my house, it was a sort of sanctuary because no one ever came by—how could they when they didn’t know where we lived—and we didn’t have a telephone.

  Loath as I was to go back to the motel where my mama worked, I did it anyway because she needed my help, and we both needed to eat and keep a roof over our heads.

  On the night of the senior prom, though, I felt antsy and cooped up and needed something to do to take my mind off what I knew was happening right across Linmoor.

  Doing laundry in town where I could sit in a brightly lit Laundromat by myself reading might not sound very exciting to anyone else, but I took pleasure in it and decided it was a good night to wash clothes.

  I loved the whirling sounds filling the space, the fresh smell of detergent and fabric softener, and even the piped-in eighties music the owner played—the same repeating playlist he’d been using for years. Sometimes I’d hear one of those songs somewhere else and I’d be momentarily confused when a different song than the one on the Laundromat playlist came on next.

  I hefted our laundry bag onto my back and left the house, asking my mama if she wanted to go with me but knowing she’d say no.

  When I stepped outside, sundown was painting the sky in wide, vivid brush strokes of mauve and purple and small splashes of white gold. I halted for a moment just to breathe in the loveliness of it, thinking about all the girls in town getting ready for tonight’s dance and wondering if they, too, were looking out their windows and remarking on what a magical sky it was, how it must certainly mean it was going to be a magical night.

  I wondered what Alicia Bardua would be wearing and I pictured her dancing with Preston, swirling around the floor. What a beautiful couple they’d make: her in a prom dress—turquoise, I thought, no, deep blue—and him in a tux.

  I picked up my feet, beginning the walk, trying to tell myself I didn’t care at all what they’d look like together, but the vision in my imagination caused a sharp ache of hurt and I closed my eyes on a groan.

  I wondered who Cole was taking. Shouldn’t I have felt that strange ache thinking of Cole with someone else? I didn’t. Couldn’t.

  Before now, I’d never allowed myself to picture Preston with other girls. Although I knew he must date. Preston and Cole were among the most popular boys in school and I assumed he must have girls throwing themselves at him. But now I knew specifically who it was, I couldn’t help the picture that formed in my mind.

  A feeling of desperation filled me and I picked up my pace, walking through the tall grass of our yard, and turning onto the dirt road in front of our house.

  The walk to the Laundromat on the edge of town wasn’t too far, but under the weight of the laundry, it took me almost thirty minutes when I could usually do it in fifteen.

  The familiar fragrant mugginess of the space brought a smile to my lips and I hefted my laundry bag onto the counter, separating the clothes into two loads. I’d have liked to separate it into three, but I only had enough money for two cycles and one box of Tide from the vending machine.

  I stuffed the washers full and slid the quarters into the slots, adding detergent and starting the machines.

  As my clothes began washing, I took a seat in one of the light blue, plastic bucket chairs by the window and opened my book, switching my clothes over to dry when the washers stopped.

  A little later, I was snapped out of my novel by the buzzing from the dryers indicating my loads were dry.

  There was a folding table near the back and I unloaded my clothes into a laundry cart and rolled it there to begin folding, humming softly to “Time After Time” as I worked.

  Awareness suddenly made
the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I paused, bringing my head up in mild alarm.

  When I heard the soft sound of footsteps on the linoleum floor behind me, I dropped the shirt in my hands, whirling around and letting out a startled squeak at the sight of a man standing near the door.

  Preston.

  A loud whoosh of breath escaped my mouth. “Oh my God. You scared me,” I said, putting my hand over my heart.

  He gazed at me steadily, taking a few steps forward. “Sorry.”

  I furrowed my brows, shaking my head slightly. “You’re supposed to be at the prom.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I broke the date with Alicia after the way she treated you.”

  I gaped stupidly at him, dread sliding down my spine. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I don’t want to hang out with someone who’s that much of a bitch.”

  I closed my eyes briefly. I couldn’t deny the relief I felt at the knowledge Preston wouldn’t be with Alicia tonight, and I appreciated the sacrifice he’d made on my behalf. But I felt panic knowing what he’d done had ensured I’d have an enemy for life. Thank God she was leaving soon. I hoped she’d never be back. “Preston—”

  “The basketball team decided to go as a group and Cole’s with them, but I decided I’m just not interested.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

  The knowledge that Cole hadn’t asked me to his prom didn’t bother me. He understood enough to know there would be no way for me to go. I couldn’t afford a tube of lipstick much less a dress and shoes and whatever else . . . It was a kindness that he hadn’t put me in the awkward position of having to come up with an excuse why I couldn’t go when we’d both know the real reason.

  I stared at Preston for a moment. “So . . . what are you doing here?”